


Trading Favors

by Minervas_Revenge



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-02
Updated: 2017-10-04
Packaged: 2018-09-27 19:18:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10041035
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Minervas_Revenge/pseuds/Minervas_Revenge
Summary: Hermione asks Draco for help with an unlikely task.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Just felt like writing it. :)

“You enjoy fellatio, don’t you?”

 

Forced to cohabitate a common area with Hermione as his fellow Head Student, Draco had grown accustomed to Hermione’s sporadic comments and questions. However, _that one_ was asked in a too-casual voice. He looked up at her from his book.

 

“I’m male,” he replied drily. He glanced curiously the witch; she was fidgeting with a cushion and couldn’t seem to keep still. _Why wasn’t she studying?_ When she said nothing more and avoided his gaze, Draco returned to his book.

 

“I’ve got a problem,” Hermione finally blurted.

 

“An oral fixation?” Draco smirked, pleased with his wit, not bothering to look up.

 

Sharing a common room, Hermione and Draco had been obliged to bury the proverbial hatchet more expeditiously than the rest of Hogwarts returnees. Neither would name the other friend but they tolerated each other; even respected each other to a certain degree. Silently.

 

The pillow whapped Draco right in the face.

 

“Is that a challenge?” he grinned, directed the pillow to spin threateningly over his head with his wand.

 

Hermione made a face. “If you don’t want to help…”

 

Draco caught the pillow and tossed it back at her with an exaggerated wink. “What? You need someone to practice on?”

 

To his delight, Hermione’s cheeks went pink. “Yes, well, not exactly.”

 

“Then, what, ‘exactly’?” he asked, going still. She had his full attention.

 

“What feels good? _Specifically_.”

 

Draco scowled at her. “What?”

 

Hermione scowled back. “ _Besides the obvious_ , what feels good?”

 

Draco laced his fingers behind his head, a suspicion brewing in his mind. “Did a particular wizard not enjoy your _attention_..?”

 

He could practically feel Hermione’s irritation boiling into anger. He smirked at her and casually set his heels on the table, kicking over her stack of books. _Wind her up…_

 

“A successful blow job really is a team effort – he’s got to tell her what he likes while she’s down there. It’s not something I can describe – you’ve got to be hands on,” Draco drawled. _And watch her go…_

 

He waited for the fireworks but was disappointed. Hermione was considering his words and she wore a pained expression.

 

“What do you mean?” she asked, biting her bottom lip.

 

Draco lifted a brow at her. Either she didn't realize he was mocking her or she was ignoring it. _In for a Sickle…_

 

“Me,” he began. “I’m vocal. Lots of ‘Oh yes, right there’s’ and ‘Ah, no’s.’ Softer, _harder_.” Hermione was rapt and Draco grinned; he loved an audience. She drew a thoughtful finger across her mouth and Draco’s imagination suddenly connected their conversation with possibility. It’d been months since a witch touched him. Draco forced his mind to abandon the idea. Gryffindor’s queen sucking him off? Never happen.

 

“Would you let me try?”

 

“What?” Surely, he’d misheard.

 

“On you? May I?”

 

“No!” Draco trilled.

 

“Why not? I won’t _tell_ …”

 

Hermione’s childish admonishment almost made Draco grin. How had this happened?

 

“Why should I?” He asked, unable to come up with a better argument.

 

A sultry smile curled Hermione’s mouth as she licked her bottom lip and, suddenly, all Draco could think about was her wet, warm tongue.

 

“Because, I’ll learn something.”

 

Draco didn't understand why the idea was so appealing. He'd never looked at Hermione as anything other than a fellow student. It seemed, she was also a witch.

 

“And you’ll enjoy it.”

 

Distracted by the sudden surge of blood from his brain to lower bits of his anatomy, Draco watched, dumbstruck, as Hermione slipped from her chair and closed the small distance between them on her knees. With the focus typical to her nature, she pulled Draco's feet from the table and situated herself atop the cushion, between his legs.

 

“I can Obliviate you after,” she offered.

 

Draco frowned. “What for?”

 

“If it’s that bad.”

 

What could have happened that a witch doubted herself to such an extent? Particularly one as intelligent as Hermione Granger. Draco leaned towards her, forcing her to meet his gaze. “Not a chance.”

 

As he leaned back, he parted his robes and found his trousers. Hermione's hands pushed his out of the way to work the button and zipper. His arms splayed wide, he held his breath as she gently handled him out of his shorts.

 

“Watch your teeth,” he hissed.

 

“I know that much,” she snapped.

 

From the moment she bent low and sucked him into her mouth, Draco utterly forgot she'd asked for guidance. Her mouth was a hot, wet tunnel, milking him. She even swallowed around the head of his cock, eliciting mindless gasps and a heartfelt, “Salazar, yes.”

 

Black bliss enveloped Draco within mere minutes and he came-to, blinking at a composed Hermione watching him expectantly from her chair.

 

“Well?” She demanded.

 

“Well, what?” He growled, attempting to be discrete about tucking himself back into his shorts and robes.

 

“You did the same thing he does! You close your eyes and moan and groan but no directions! How am I supposed to know what to do?”

 

For a moment, Draco thought Hermione must be just a little bit mad. Could someone so smart really be such an idiot? He struggled with how to answer her and considered lying for a repeat performance. In the end, he told her the truth because trying to come up with a decent lie would take him too long, his brainpower as sluggish as it was.

 

“Hermione, what you did was mildly fantastic. You are in no need of direction.”

 

“Oh,” she said.

 

“Why are you surprised?” He asked, utterly confused.

 

“Because he never wants to ...do anything else.”

 

“He won't return the favor?”

 

Hermione shook her head.

 

“That just means he's a selfish shit.”

 

“Oh,” Hermione repeated, her expression evolving from disappointment to disgust.

 

“I, on the other hand,” Draco began coolly. “Believe in returning favors.”

 

Hermione’s eyes were wide but a small smile curled her lips.


	2. Chapter 2

**Part II.**

 

“How come you haven’t collected, yet?”

 

“Beg your pardon?” Hermione asked, ripping her attention from her book.

 

She swallowed to find herself the object of Draco’s intense gaze. He’d come back from Quidditch practice, spattered with mud. After a trip to the bath, he spent an hour skulking in his room. When he finally emerged, he’d sighed heavily for a bit then gone down to the Great Hall for dinner. His return was announced by the question.

 

Draco slid onto the arm of Hermione’s chair and peered over her shoulder at her book.

 

“I owe you a favor,” he purred.

 

Hermione’s temperature shot right up and her breath went short. He was leaning on her and the contact melted her brain.

 

“Why…haven’t…you…collected?” he repeated, enunciating each word with deliberate slowness.

 

Hermione watched, helplessly trapped by her hormones, as Draco took the book from her hands and dropped it onto the floor.

 

“I don’t like being in debt,” Draco explained, as if speaking to a child. He stared Hermione in the eye and shook his head.

 

“You’re drunk,” Hermione whispered.

 

“Worse. I’m bored,” he whispered back.

 

With a wicked grin that melted lesser witches’ hearts, Draco grabbed her wrists and pulled Hermione to her feet.

 

“Your bed or mine?” he asked.

 

For a moment, Hermione was distracted by the curling of his lips. He wore a hint of a smile that made her want to smile back. Throat dry and heartbeat thumping in her ears, she hadn’t expected Draco to actually ‘return the favor.’ As much as her mind struggled with the idea of intimacy with Draco Malfoy, her body was unabashedly interested.

 

“Mine,” she finally replied, turning on her heel to lead the way.

 

Hermione rather froze as she reached the foot of her bed; what in Merlin’s name was she doing?

 

Draco was directly behind her. As if sensing her hesitation, he blinded her with his grin, once more.

 

“Get comfy,” he said, jutting his chin towards the bed.

 

“I… I’m not sure about this,” Hermione admitted.

 

Draco made a face at her and stepped closer. “I’ve had a rotten day. Positively awful. I’m bored and I don’t like owing anyone _anything_. …And, you smell nice.”

 

A giggle escaped Hermione before she could help herself. He thought that lame compliment would make a difference? Draco smirked.

 

“Lie down. You won’t regret it.”

 

His promise convinced Hermione to play along more than anything. She’d regret it if she let the opportunity pass. Eyes narrow with thought, she sat on the edge of the bed and scooted backwards to the pillows.

 

“Lose your shoes,” he said.

 

Hermione toed off her shoes and pushed them off the bed with one foot.

 

“Socks next, I suppose?” she asked.

 

Draco glanced at her legs. “The socks can stay. Drop your knickers.”

 

Hermione hoped he didn’t notice how deep of an effect he was having on her. Her breath went shallow, again. She wiggled onto her knees, reached under her skirt at her hips and snagged her knickers. Feeling a bit surreal, she slid them off, her gaze locked on Draco’s face. The heat kindling in his eyes warmed Hermione and her muscles turned to jelly.

 

Draco climbed onto the bed after her and leaned in for a kiss. Hermione splayed a palm on his chest.

 

“What are you doing?” she asked, alarmed. She expected him to focus on an area decidedly south of her skirt.

 

“Relax,” he said, his expression part exasperation, part confident male.

 

At her continued frown, Draco sighed. “Every wizard’s different, Granger. Let me do this my way.”

 

Before she could capitulate, Draco rolled his eyes. “Fine, I won’t kiss you.”

 

Instead, he leaned into her neck and began nipping and sucking up her throat to her jaw. His attention reached her ear and she gasped at the sweet pangs of desire the sound of his breath shot through her. Hermione was vaguely aware of his hands roaming over her, sometimes smoothing, sometimes gripping tight enough to pinch. When his tongue gently probed her ear, she gave a breathy moan and damn near arched off the bed in ecstasy.

 

Hermione was embarrassed to find she’d laced her fingers into Draco’s robes. She released him and he pressed his lips to her cheek as if he cared. It was  gesture that confused Hermione but she didn’t have time to dwell on it; Draco’d moved to the edge of the bed, hooked behind her knees, and swiftly pulled her to him. She closed her eyes, unable to reconcile the sight of him between her knees.

 

The fabric of Hermione’s skirt skimmed up her thighs and she jumped as fingertips slipped up from her knees.

 

“Lovely,” she heard him murmur.

 

Then, breath warmed her nether lips and liquid trickled from them in response.

 

Hermione gasped and muttered something incoherent when a wet tongue divided her folds. As Draco licked languidly through her slick folds, Hermione relaxed, enjoying the low buzz of pleasure rumbling through her. She could have purred, floating in leisurely bliss.

 

This was all she wanted.

 

As Draco’s attention continued, she noticed when it changed; his tongue pressed harder and moved faster. Hermione’s hands fisted and she caught herself panting. Annoyance began to build. He was avoiding touching the very spots that would bring her sweet, black bliss. A frustrated moan escaped her but it turned into a gasp to feel a digit press on the tight bud of her arse.

 

While she didn’t want to stop Draco’s ministrations, she wasn’t interested in a finger in her bum, either. Before her distracted mind could verbalize a wish one way or the other, his tongue slipped into her and she was lost to sensation. Two fingers replaced his tongue, pressing deep inside of her, and his lips wrapped around her hot little clit. Hermione came hard, riding Draco’s hand and swearing at every deity in her vocabulary.

 

When Hermione regained coherency, she was alone.


End file.
